


Fever

by theoofoof



Series: Sick/Fever [2]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry's turn to be ill, and Ruth takes it upon herself to take care of him. Companion to 'Sick'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ruth was at her desk, tying up a few loose ends in her final report. Glancing around she noticed that the team were flagging; hardly surprising really considering most of them have been on the go for over 48 hours, herself included. But that's what happens when rogue Iraqi soldiers go on the rampage in central London, taking out people at random with a sniper rifle. She looked towards Harry's office wondering how he was; he'd looked shocking when he'd returned from Whitehall after debriefing the JIC. The blinds are still down but Ruth made a decision. Leaving her computer to run its current and final analysis, she headed into the kitchenette.

She returned a few minutes later armed with a tray full of cups of tea and coffee, a sugar bowl, some milk and a plate biscuits for the team which she placed on Zaf's desk.

"Thanks Ruth," he said looking up. "You didn't have to do that."

Ruth shrugged, "Good for the soul to get the tea every once in a while." She added some milk and sugar to one of the mugs and turned to Harry's office. "I'll take one in for Harry," she said. Zaf didn't comment but it didn't go unnoticed by him that:

a) she knew exactly how he took his coffee, and  
b) that she took a mug for herself too.

He merely smiled and made a mental note to alter the odds on his book.

Ruth entered Harry's office without knocking as had become customary for her but it was only when she went to place his coffee down on his desk that she noticed he was asleep. Slumped over his desk, his head resting on his arms, he was snoring lightly. Ruth was concerned; this wasn't like him. He'd gone for much longer without sleep before and had never once fallen asleep at his desk.

Having put the mugs down, she moved to him and gently placed her hand on his back. She stood for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breaths, soothed somehow by his steadiness. She didn't want to wake him, but she couldn't just leave him there. He didn't look comfortable and she knew from experience that if he stayed like that for too long, his neck and back would be in agony.

"Harry," she said quietly. He stirred, but didn't wake. She leaned closer to his ear and put her hand on his head. He felt warm and his skin was slightly clammy. "Harry."

This time he heard, and lifted his head. Groggy, he put his hands over his face, rubbing hard. Ruth stepped back and let him get his bearings. When he realised what had happened he looked embarrassed. "Uh…Ruth? I…Oh…I must have dozed off."

Ruth looked at him intently; he did not look well. His skin was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. "Are you okay Harry? You don't look well."

"I'm fine."

"Harry!"

"Okay, I feel a little…off kilter," he finally admitted.

"You need to go home," Ruth stated.

"I can't; I need to see the Home Secretary."

"Bugger the Home Secretary," Ruth quipped, retrieving Harry's coat from the rack in the corner of the office. "It's almost 5, you've not slept in over 48 hours and it's quite clear that you are ill.

"Ruth," he began to protest, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Stand up," she instructed in a no nonsense tone, holding out his coat. Harry reluctantly did as she asked and as he stood the room began to spin. He closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself. When he opened his eyes once more Ruth was looking at him, concern etched on her face. "Come on Harry. I'm taking you home."

* * *

When they arrived at his house, Harry had managed to summon up enough energy to remove his coat and climb the stairs before flopping down on his bed, exhausted. She'd removed his shoes and socks, got him a glass of water and then left him to rest. She hadn't gone far though; taking up residence on his sofa. She couldn't explain why she'd felt the need to stay, but she had. She'd tried to tell herself that she was repaying the favour from when he took care of her when she had the flu several months ago, but deep down she knew it was more than that. Over the last few months she and Harry had become closer and she was beginning to feel things for him that one shouldn't feel for their boss. And now he was sick and she was worried about him. She'd never seen him ill before. Injured yes, but not ill; not really. There had been that time during the EERIE exercise that he'd pretended to be dying but that didn't count as he was only playing a role.

She looked at the clock; it had been nearly an hour since they'd gotten back and she was beginning to get a little peckish. Meandering into the kitchen, she found Scarlet asleep in her bed. She bent down to greet the Jack Russell, stroking her gently behind the ears. "Do you think your master would mind if I helped myself to some food?" she asked.

Scarlet gave a whimper which Ruth took to mean, "Not at all," so after filling the dog's bowl she began to scour the cupboards for something to cobble together into a meal. She found herself pleasantly surprised by the contents of Harry's kitchen cupboards; all the evidence pointed to him being rather talented in the kitchen. She wondered what other areas of life he was talented in and found herself daydreaming about him cooking for her and then showing just how talented he was in certain other areas; kissing, touching, fu-…

The creak of a floorboard upstairs pulled her from her fantasy. She shook her head, telling herself to stop it; he's her boss after all, before making her way to the bottom of the stairs, her quest for food forgotten. She listened for further movement and it quickly became obvious that Harry was up and about. She climbed the stairs quietly, not wanting to startle Harry who had probable assumed she'd left. About half way up she announced her presence but when she arrived at the top she couldn't see him.

His bedroom door was open, so she peered in. "Harry?"

At her voice he stepped out of the adjoining bathroom. Ruth looked at him; he was holding onto the doorframe and he looked worse than before, something she hadn't thought possible. She approached him and he let go of the doorframe, staggering into her. The force pushed them both backwards into the bedroom. What caught her attention, shocked her even as they fell, was not the dead weight of his body but the heat of it. He was radiating. Waves of heat poured off him, onto her, soaking through her thin blouse. Desperately she tried to keep him upright but the sheer weight of him overcame her small size and they tumbled onto the bed. His face, hot and sweaty, buried in her neck. Mumbling. Unintelligible into her skin.

"The fields are blue. Call base. I left already. He's gone."

Fear for him choked Ruth so much that she couldn't think for a moment. Using all her strength she rolled him off her and sat herself up.

"Bill. Help Bill. I couldn't help him. I left him. They'll kill him."

He was delirious; probably due to the fever that was taking over his body, causing it to tremble and shiver. She may not have paid full attention as a child when her father spoke of his works as GP but she'd listened enough to know that a fever as high as Harry's was not good. She had to cool him down and fast.


	2. Chapter 2

_Previously…_

" _Bill. Help Bill. I couldn't help him. I left him. They'll kill him."_

_He was delirious; probably due to the fever that was taking over his body, causing it to tremble and shiver. She may not have paid full attention as a child when her father spoke of his works as GP but she'd listened enough to know that a fever as high as Harry's was not good. She had to cool him down and fast._

* * *

"Harry, I need to get you into the bathroom? Can you walk with me?"

She wasn't sure what she would do if he wouldn't move under his own power. There was no way she could drag him into bathroom. She moved back to him, and pulled him into a sitting position. She wrapped her arms around him shocked again by the heat. He was mumbling once again, incoherent thoughts, this time about Graham and Catherine.

"Harry please. I need you to help me." She was on the verge of tears, wishing she was bigger, stronger. How on earth was she going to take care of him? Suddenly, as if hearing her unspoken thoughts, Harry stood, leaning heavily against her, and they stumbled into the bathroom together. She flipped on the light and he moaned and covered his eyes. He sank to the floor, overcome with shaking.

Ruth put the plug in the bath tub and began to fill it with cold water. "I need to get you undressed, Harry. You're burning up and I have to get your fever down, okay?" She spoke in a low and soothing tone, and he seemed to understand. She unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it from his body and he managed to lift himself off the floor enough for her to ease his trousers over his hip and down his legs. Now clad in only his white boxer briefs he sank back down, worn out by even that small movement.

For a fleeting moment as she undressed him Ruth remembered her earlier fantasy and suddenly wished this scenario was happening under different circumstances. What she wouldn't give to be undressing him in the throes of passion. Scolding herself that this was not the time, she helped Harry into the tub and eased him down, eyes filling with tears as she did so.

Perching on the edge of the bath, she cupped cool water in her hands and poured it down his back and his arms. He sat motionless, knees up, his head buried in his arms, letting her take care of him. Ruth suddenly felt passionately, violently protective of this man in front of her. In that moment she knew she would easily sacrifice anything…everything for him.

Finally, gradually, the trembling subsided and Harry's temperature began to drop. He lifted his head, his eyes weary but clear. "That wasn't exactly how I envisioned you undressing me for the first time," he said.

Assuming that he was still delirious and therefore would be unable to remember these events later, she whispered a reply, "No, me neither."

A few moments of silence before Ruth decided Harry was cool enough. "Let's get you out of here before you catch a chill," she told him. He nodded and stood with great effort. She wrapped a towel around him, her arms finding their way around his chest, holding him tight, tighter. He let his damp head fall tiredly onto her shoulder. They stood that way, motionless, for a moment before she sat him down on the edge of the bath. "I'll go and get you some clean clothes."

She returned two minutes later with a pair of grey pyjama bottoms and asked if he would be able to manage to change. He assured her he would be and she left once again, to get him some paracetamol . When she came back, he had managed to pull the pyjama bottoms on so she helped him back to the bedroom and into bed. She gave him the tablets, and then pulled the covers up over him as he settled down. She sat with him, stroking his head soothingly until he snaked a hand out of the duvet and grasped hers.

"Thank you," he rasped. "For looking after me...there's no one else to do it." Those words, spoken simply and truthfully, speared her through the heart. She knew it wasn't strictly true; there was Catherine, although she wasn't always in the country. She pictured what would have happened if she hadn't been here and it made her shiver.

"You'll always have me," she told him.

They were quiet for a while after that, so quiet that she was sure he had fallen asleep. She almost did and when she realised she was dozing off, she tried to extract her hand from his but he held on tighter. He wasn't asleep.

"Stay," he asks, without opening his eyes. He shuffled over under the covers and attempted to tug her onto the bed.

Thinking him still delusional, she began to refuse. "Harry I don't think…"

"You've not slept for over 48 hours either; and you've been taking care of me. Just sleep. Please." Okay, so he wasn't quite as delusional as she thought; he was quite lucid in fact. And what he was suggesting did sound extremely tempting; too tempting.

"I'll take the spare room," she suggested as a compromise.

"It's an office. There's no bed."

"I'll sleep on the couch then."

"You'll do no such thing," he replied indignantly. "We're both adults and this is a bed made for two people. Please Ruth. I'm hardly in any fit state to take advantage of you."

Not having the strength of mind to argue with him and feeling more tired by the second, she slipped off her shoes and allowed herself to be pulled onto the bed. She didn't get under the covers, worried that it would be her that would be tempted to take advantage if she was faced with his bare chest. He doesn't let go of her hand, but neither notice, drifting off into deep sleep within moments.


	3. Chapter 3

When Harry woke up the next morning he was very quickly aware of someone in bed beside him. He turned to look and for a moment, he was shocked to see Ruth lying there, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm around his waist and their legs entwined. It started to come back to him as his head began to pound. He'd been ill at work, she'd brought him home and then he'd asked her into his bed. He had a feeling there was something he was missing, but it was fuzzy and it hurt his head to think about it. He remembered she hadn't gotten under the covers when she'd joined him on the bed, so sometime during the night she must have gotten cold.

Needing to pee he extracted himself from Ruth's embrace, being careful not to wake her. He stood up, using the bedside table for support as the room spun a little, and staggered to the bathroom. He did his business and before leaning against the sink. He splashed some cold water on his face and, it was while he was looking around trying to locate a towel that he spotted yesterday's clothes piled in the corner; his still-slightly-drenched underwear atop. Suddenly he was assaulted by images from the previous evening. They came fast and furious, shooting through his brain like images on a microfiche. Dizziness overcame him again and he stumbled backwards. Luckily, he managed to control his movement and was able to perch on the side of the bath as he tried to process what had happened.

A few minutes later he'd remembered most of what had happened but the one memory that was sticking out was Ruth admitting that it wasn't how she'd imagined stripping him. An interesting revelation. He'd been falling for Ruth for a while now; but he'd been unwilling to make a move for fear of being rejected. But now…well, now he knew she'd been having similar thoughts and that had thrown open the doors of possibility.

Feeling slightly better, he returned to the bedroom, looking longingly at the sleeping brunette nestled in the Egyptian cotton sheets. He really wanted to crawl back in there with her and wrap his arms around her but he wasn't sure how she would react upon waking. Instead, he crept through the room and headed to the kitchen to get himself a drink.

* * *

Ruth woke alone in Harry's bed and was instantly on alert. Where was he? She clambered out of bed, and searched for him. When she found he wasn't in the bathroom or any of the other upstairs rooms she descended the stairs; calling his name.

"In here," he called, upon hearing her shouts. She found him in the kitchen. "Morning," he greeted as she entered.

"You should be in bed," Ruth scolded.

"I needed a drink and to take some painkillers."

Ruth's concern was immediately apparent. "Are you still feeling rough?"

"I've got a bit of a headache and feel a bit muzzy but I'll be okay. I need to eat though."

"Well sit down and I'll make you some breakfast."

"You don't have to do that Ruth, I-"

"I'm taking care of you remember?"

Harry did remember. He knew she thought he was completely out of it last night, he remembered quite a bit; especially after he had cooled down. He got lost in his thoughts; remembering the feel of her hands on his bare skin; wishing he were in a position to reciprocate and take things further.

Ruth was unnerved by his silence; assuming that he didn't want her there. "Unless you don't want me to. I…I apologise if I overstepped…I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You're obviously out of danger now, so I'll go."

She was already at the kitchen door when her words permeated his brain. He rushed to stop her, dizzying himself as he did so. He wobbled slightly and braced himself against the doorframe; his hands lying on the wood just above her head. She placed her hands on his chest to support him, and he looked down at her.

"You've not overstepped Ruth; I told you last night; I'm grateful for you looking after me. I was just distracted back there."

"You're still not well Harry. You should go back to bed. I'll bring you some food."

"Will you be joining me?"

"I….erm…I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"I think it is."

"Harry."

"Please Ruth; humour a man while he's ill."

Ruth smiled despite herself. He knew then that he'd won her over. "Fine, but you won't be able to use that excuse forever. You'll be better soon."

"Well I'll just have to find another excuse then…or make you enjoy it so much that you never want to leave."

"I'm sorry? What?" Ruth spluttered, unable to believe the turn the conversation had taken.

"My company Ruth, I was talking about my company."

"Oh, right," she blushed. "Of course."

Taking her blush as a good sign, he went out on a limb. "Although I do seem to remember you implying last night that you wouldn't necessarily be against…other activities."

Her blush deepens. "I…you remember?"

"I do. I tend to remember when beautiful women suggest that they may like to sleep with me...no matter how high a fever I have."

"Harry…"

Sensing he was about to push too far, he backed off. "I think I will go up to bed…you're right, I should rest."

Ruth watched him go, scolding herself. 'He's your boss. You shouldn't be thinking of him like that! Stop it!' Shaking her head she busied herself making Harry something to eat.

* * *

By the time she entered his room 15 minutes later, arms laden with breakfast, the tension between them had disappeared.

He looked at the offerings of a bowl of cornflakes, a bacon sandwich, orange juice and coffee, and smiled widely. "What would I do without you?" he said.

"I don't know," Ruth answered as she placed the tray down on the bed before chancing a cheeky dig at him. "But you don't look like you're starving to death."

"No, that's not one of my problems," he answered, chuckling. He grabbed the bacon sandwich and tucked in.

"No, it's not," Ruth said, finding her eyes drawn to his body again.

He paused in mid-bite and stilled, watching her watching him. Ruth realized what she was doing and jerked her eyes away.

"I thought we'd agreed you were going to join me?" Harry reminded.

"We did…I was…but…there was a red flash; I'm needed on the Grid."

Harry's brow furrowed. "My phone didn't ring."

Ruth blushed. "I might have turned it off. You're not needed at the moment," she continued before he could reprimand her. "Adam can deal with it. You need to rest; you'd be no use anyway," she pointed out.

Reluctantly, he agrees but only on the proviso that she calls back later to brief him on what's happening.

"I was going to come back and check on you anyway," she admitted with another slight blush.

"I look forward to it," Harry replied.


	4. Chapter 4

Ruth returned to Harry's just after seven, letting herself in with the key she'd taken from his house that morning. She called his name softly, but there was no answer. Stepping into the hall, Scarlett greeted her warmly before turning and trotting into the living room. As she reached the door, the Jack Russell looked back at Ruth as if beckoning her to follow. Ruth did so and, as she rounded the end of the sofa she stopped dead. Harry was dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, asleep on the sofa. She glanced round; she noticed an empty bowl of soup on the coffee table as well as an assortment of glasses; he'd certainly been following her instruction about keeping his fluid up. Much to her surprise, there wasn't a whisky tumbler in sight. She turned back to look at him. He was half reclined against the corner of the couch, one leg on the floor, the other dangling half way off the couch. His head was back against the cushion, his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful and relaxed. She realised he wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. She took in the size of his feet; they were big. They were clean, the nails neatly trimmed, a small tuft of hair on the top of his big toes. God even the man's feet were sexy, she thought.

Yes indeed, she thought, her boss was a sexy man. She took a deep breath and inhaled his unique smell; intoxicated by it. She inched closer and sat gingerly on the edge of the couch near his hip and allowed herself the guilty pleasure of staring at his body while he was unaware; she didn't usually get the chance to be this open in her perusal.

He was snoring lightly and Ruth felt her heart rate increase slightly. God he was gorgeous. From the top of his tows to the crown of his head. Her eyes raked over him once more and, in slow motion, she found her herself reaching towards him. She placed her hand gently on his sternum. He sighed but didn't wake.

'What am I doing?' Ruth asked herself. 'Do I really want to go where this is heading?'

She did. Very much so and the possible ramifications scared her no end. Not enough to stop her hand from sweeping gently across his chest though. Her hand slid lower, her eyes following its trail. She moved it over his abdomen and felt something brush her elbow. She jumped slightly as she realised he had an erection and that she had moved close enough to brush against it. She knew she should move away, should stop this before it could escalate, before he woke, but her hand was frozen in place. She turned her head to look more closely at the bulge in his jeans; it looked impressive. She hadn't really been looking last night; too preoccupied with getting his fever down, but she had sneaked a glance (well who wouldn't when faced with that situation?) and it had seemed a good size then, while flaccid. Now, it was certainly a sight to behold. Oh the things he could do to her with that…

Ruth was jerked back to awareness when she felt a hand on her wrist. She gasped and turned to look at Harry. His eyes were wide open and she tried to pull his hand away but he held it firmly.

"I…I'm sorry," she began and tried to stand up, but his other arm came up and grasped her hip, preventing her from standing and pulling her back down.

"Don't go," he said roughly.

"You're sick, Harry. I'm so sorry. I've crossed a line. I'm sorry." She tried to stand again but he held her in place.

"Stop apologising," he instructed. The hand on her hip slid around and up her back, exerting gentle pressure, guiding her towards his torso. She couldn't resist. She felt her muscles relax and she sank down towards him, gently laying her head on his chest, with him resting his chin on the crown of her head. He moved his legs up onto the couch and turned on his side, making room for her. He tugged gently and she fell next to him, rolling into his body. He lifted his leg and Ruth's slid in between, her knee rising as if it had a will of its own. She stopped when she felt it brush the heat of his groin. All the moving and adjusting had left Ruth's skirt bunched half way up her thigh and her blouse askew. Harry groaned quietly as Ruth's thigh brushed his balls and she felt him harden against her.

"You're sick," she repeated stupidly, wondering why she was trying to stop something that felt so good. Her nipples were hard and brushing against his chest. Her head was now cushioned on his bicep and his lay against a small throw pillow.

"I'm feeling much better now," he assured her, his fingers brushing the skin that had been bared when her blouse had ridden up. She wrapped her arm around him and began to rib his back. He made adorable humming sounds and he squirmed closer to her. She fleetingly thought that they should stop and at least talk this through, but that was forgotten as his hand slid under her blouse and cupped her breast, squeezing gently.

"Oh God," moaned Ruth softly and let her head fall back.

Harry let out the sexiest moan she'd ever heard, flexing his erection against her hip. He dipped his head and lowered his lips to her exposed neck, licking and sucking her pulse point. "Oh God, Harry!" she gasped.

Harry moved so fast Ruth barely had time to register what he was doing, but she soon found herself divested of her blouse and lying on her back with Harry straddling her. He crushed his lips to hers, forcing her mouth open and sliding his tongue inside. A small thought that she might catch whatever he had flitted through Ruth's brain but then she thought of nothing as she sank into the pleasure of being kissed by Harry Pearce.

His fingers wove through her hair, holding her head in place as he firmly but gently plundered her mouth. He pulled back briefly to nip at her swollen lips and lick them. She took the opportunity to lift his t-shirt over his head. She swallowed as she was faced with his naked chest once more. In much better circumstances. She raked her ringers over his skin as he stared at her, his erection huge and throbbing against her stomach. His voice was ragged when he spoke. "I want you so much I could scream."

"You're delirious Harry. You're sick," Ruth protested, part of her brain again wondering why she was doing so. But she needed to be sure. She didn't want to do this and have him regret it afterwards.

"I'm not delirious. I'm fine. And I want to make love to you Ruth." He reached around her and unhooked her bra, pulling it from her.

She panted as her exposed breasts ached and her nipples stiffened in the cold air. "Harry…I don't know…I can't lose everything just so you can satisfy an itch."

"You won't."

"How can you say that? You're not in my position. You're my boss for Christ's sake. I can't risk my job for sex."

He lowered himself gently above her, his hips touching down as her legs spread as if they had a mind of their own. He grunted as they made contact, their clothing acting as little barrier to the heat they were generating despite their impromptu conversation. "It's not just sex," he told her.

"I...It's not?" she whimpered.

His lips brushed her eyelids, then her nose and cheeks before they finally moved to her mouth, stopping, but brushing her lips as he talked. "You know it isn't."

"Do I?"

His brow furrowed; he didn't understand how Ruth couldn't see the depths of his feelings for her. "I'm crazy about you, Ruth."

She scoffed lightly, still unable to believe it. "It's just hormones talking…you're lonely, I understand that; I'm lonely too but that's no reason to-"

Harry kissed her gently. "I'm in my fifties, I don't have any hormones. "

She tried to laugh but it fell flat and he ignored it anyway, kissing his way over her jaw and up to her ear. His hot breath bathed her ear as he whispered, "I've been falling for you for a while. I knew you were different, special that first day when you burst into the briefing room dropping files all over the place, but I didn't realise how special until you were held by Andrew Forrestal. And then you got sick…and that's when I started to realise..."

Ruth's brain was spinning. Could any of this be true? Or was he just telling her what she would want to hear in order to get her to sleep with him? No, she decided; he wouldn't manipulate her like that. "Realise what?" she asked.

"That I was falling in love with you."


	5. Chapter 5

_Previously…_

_I knew you were different, special that first day when you burst into the briefing room dropping files all over the place, but I didn't realise how special until you were held by Andrew Forrestal. And then you got sick…and that's when I started to realise..."_

_Ruth's brain was spinning. Could any of this be true? Or was he just telling her what she would want to hear in order to get her to sleep with him? No, she decided; he wouldn't manipulate her like that. "Realise what?" she asked._

" _That I was falling in love with you."_

* * *

Ruth began to protest. How could he be in love with her? "Harry, you can't poss-"

His finger pressed against her lips, shushing her. "Look at me," he commanded. Ruth had no choice. His eyes locked with hers and she could see how much this was taking out of him; to admit these things to her. "I love you Ruth Evershed. I know I'm not much of a catch; I'm older than you, I made a hideous mess of my marriage and my past is littered with dark, unspeakable deeds but God Ruth! I want you. I dream about you all the time. I've lain awake at night and ached, knowing that I'll never have you because, let's face it, what would you want with an old man like me?"

Ruth's eyes were wide now, stunned by his emotional admission. Her boss didn't do emotion; this was not the Section Head she knew. No, she realised. It wasn't. This was Harry…the man. Tortured, lonely and so loyal to his country and his officers…including her. This man was telling her that he loved her and she was just lying there motionless.

Suddenly, Ruth didn't care anymore; she wanted him with an intensity that thrilled (and slightly terrified) her. Nothing like a declaration of love to put things into perspective. She grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him down to meet her, their lips crashing together.

Harry responded immediately, kissing her with both tenderness and passion. He worried her bottom lip between his teeth and slid his hand up her leg and under her skirt. His fingers found her centre and stroked lightly over her knickers, causing her hips to buck against his hand.

A few more strokes and she was writhing under him, clearly enjoying his ministrations. "I think…maybe…we should take this upstairs," she panted. Harry grunted his agreement and lifted himself off her.

They shared another bruising kiss against the wall in the hallway and several more as they climbed the stairs. At one point, they nearly toppled over as Ruth managed to unfasten Harry's jeans a little and side her hand inside. After what seemed like an age, they finally reached Harry's bedroom. She noticed he'd changed the sheets and wondered if that was for her benefit; had he planned this? Before she could ask him she felt his hands around her once again, deftly locating the zip of her skirt it was round her ankles in moments. Clad only in her knickers, she sat down on the bottom of the bed and beckoned him to her.

When he reached her she finished her job of unfastening and removing his jeans and boxer-briefs, finally freeing his straining erection. She was right; very impressive. She reached out and her hand slid over the hot flesh a few times before Harry put his hand on her shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed. She hutched herself up so her head was on the pillows and Harry crawled over her, kissing her once more. This time as his erection lay between her open legs there was only her underwear separating them and she could feel every pulse of his hot skin through the think cotton.

Harry proceeded to kiss, suckle ad lick her breasts until she was squirming and whimpering beneath him. He then moved lower, his hands grabbing and removing her underwear. His fingers finally found her slick centre and he gasped at how obviously aroused she was. "Jesus Ruth!" He toyed with her for a little while, ensuring she was ready and then his probing finger was replaced by his hardness.

Ruth lifted her legs he nudged at her entrance with the flared head of his shaft and pushed. She sucked in a breath as she felt him start to enter her; it had been quite a while for her and he was so big. He must have sensed this though, as he was slow and gentle but still applied firm pressure.

"Hells bells Ruth, you feel exquisite," he muttered. "So tight."

She grimaced lightly as he pushed all the way in and he gave her a minute to adjust to his size; feathering kisses over her face until her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Never better," she replied. "Do it Harry. Make love to me."

"Oh yeah." He began to thrust his hips against her, gradually lengthening his stroked until he was almost pulling all the way out before slamming back in.

"Faster," Ruth urged, feeling her orgasm building quickly. He sped up slightly and Ruth clenched her muscles around him. "More Harry…please!"

Harry's eyes widened as he realised just how close Ruth was and he pumped even harder. In moments her body started to shake and convulse as her climax hit her. He continued thrusting deep into her, prolonging her orgasm for as long as possible. Finally she was spent, quivering beneath him. She mustered up enough energy to reach down and rake her nails gently over his buttocks. That was it; he cried out as he emptied himself into her. His cock twitched once, twice, three times before he collapsed on top of her.

They held each other as their breathing slowed and returned to normal. It was then that Ruth realised she hadn't actually told him how she felt. She'd been so busy showing him that the actual declaration had been forgotten in the heat of passion. When he rolled off her, she snuggled up to him and whispered his name. He turned his head to look at her and she smiled as she stroked his cheek. "I forgot to day before…I was a little…distracted, but I want you to know…I love you too Harry."

Harry let out a breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding as she finally declared her feelings for him. He broke into a huge grin and began to kiss her senseless once more. Ruth was very much enjoying the kiss when Harry pulled away suddenly. "Shit!"

Ruth was confused. "What, what is it?"

"We didn't…we didn't use protection."

She smiled and blushed slightly. "It's okay…it's covered; I'm on the pill. Sorry, I should have mentioned that but I was…"

"Distracted?" Harry supplied, using her word from earlier. Ruth nodded. "I think we both were," he said. His hand drifted to her abdomen. "Not that I wouldn't be happy about it if it did happen."

The cogs in Ruth's brain whirred as she took in this new piece of information. They were certainly having to work overtime this evening. "It's a little early for that, I think," she replied with a smile. Although deep down she wonder what it would be like if they had a child together.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose so, but I meant what I said; this wasn't just sex."

"I know, but let's take it one step at a time, okay? You know me Harry, I'm an analyst; when this post-coital bliss wears off, I'm going to have to take to time to process everything that's happening between us."

"I know. Just don't run from me okay?"

"Oh, I have no intention of doing that," she assured.

"Good, because I may have to resort to feigning illness if you do; given the results of the real thing..."

"Oh God! I'd actually forgotten you'd been sick. Shit Harry, we shouldn't have done that. Are you okay?" She put her hand to his head. "You feel very warm. Are you sure you don't still have a fever?"

"I've got a fever alright, just not one that can be treated with any traditional remedy."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Oh really, and what kind of treatment did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was hoping to sample some more of your bedside manner…Nurse Evershed. There are definitely certain parts of me that are…swollen." Ruth giggled at his blatant innuendo but was silenced with a searing kiss as Harry pushed her back into the mattress.


End file.
